Good Enough
by RayKay72
Summary: What makes Nick get up and fix those eggs a second time.


**_I do not own New Girl, but if I did I imagine it would not be KILLING me the way it is!_**

_You're like me, and I'm not good enough for my little girl._

_Not good enough._

_Not good enough._

Nick lay on his bed, staring at the cracked ceiling. Bob's words rang like a broken record in his head. He squeezed his eyes shut, hoping to make it stop. But there it was – the truth of what Nick thought all along.

_Not good enough._

He rubbed his face with his hands, and felt the stubble scrape against his palm. Nick sighed. This day was supposed to be so different. Jess had looked so beautiful this morning with her dark hair spilling over his frayed, plaid pillow case. They had laughed, and everything felt so easy, so right. Nick practically had to pinch himself to believe she was there – in his bed, after she spent the night with him, in his arms. It felt so much like a beginning, a beginning of something incredible. And now it all felt like it was slipping away.

Nick turned on his side, facing the door that lead to Jess' room. The only thing that stood between them (or lay between them) was her fearsome father who had passed out some time ago after trying to inflate his air mattress. But it was more than just his softly snoring form that was in the way. It was those damn words.

_Not good enough._

Bob might as well have been a samurai warrior wielding a sword with the way his words sliced through Nick. An icy dread pierced him, and a voice sounding a lot like Tom Waits echoed in his head, "Yeah, that sounds about right."

He'd always known the truth – that she deserved more than a slightly broken bartender with no direction and a crappy outlook on life. But he had grabbed her anyway, swept her into his arms as she was heading out to be with a freakin' firefighter who saved lives, a guy probably _worthy_ of Jess.

"You selfish bastard," he muttered to himself.

Jess was sunlight and air and warmth. Nick knew it was wrong to want that. He knew he would probably do no more than smother her light with his surly nature. Hell, even if after all her father said, if Jess still wanted to be with him – God knows why – Nick knew that if he had any balls he'd let her go. He's stop trying to hold onto something that would never work.

Nick fought for a breath as his heart constricted. The thought of watching her slip through his fingers, again, of getting so close to being with her, and then watching her turn away? It was just too much.

"Damn it," he hissed.

Hell yeah, he was selfish. He wanted Jess, all of her – her light, her smile, her body, her sighs, her songs. She was more than a beautiful woman. She was the most intelligent, infuriating, hopeful, silly, kind, compassionate, know-it-all, quirky, funny and loving woman he's ever met. He wanted _Jess_. He'd meant what he said to Bob about her being special. It killed Nick whenever he saw her hurt, even if it was his fault. That was why he sang songs from Dirty Dancing to her in a crowded restaurant, doused her in a pool with Tran, danced like an idiot to Taylor Swift to make her laugh – all very UN-Nick things to do. He'd never have done that for Julia or Caroline or ….

Nick froze. The image of Jess in his bed played again in his mind. Just seeing her there made him want to do something special for her. He'd made, let's face it, a really horrific-looking breakfast. But he'd MADE it. Jess made him want to do MORE. Being with her made him want to do the impossible – climb mountains, battle sharks, eat blueberries, own a damn fish!

Nick sat up. Maybe he was like good, old Bobby D, but Nick had one thing Bob never had – _Jess_. Maybe it was hopeless, or at least a fool's hope, but Jess made Nick want to be a guy who would be worth of her. He had NO idea if he could pull it off, but he had to try.

Making his way quietly to the door, Nick eased it open and peered down at the sleeping Bob. He sneaked past him and into the kitchen, where he did his best to pull the frying pan out of the cabinet without any noise. Peeking around the corner to make sure Bob was not stirring, he quickly assembled the rest of the breakfast he had forked over to "Wilson" this morning.

About to slide out of the kitchen, he spotted the lone daisy he abandoned this morning because it was "too much." Defiantly, he scooped up the flower and shoved it back into the empty beer bottle. Quietly grabbing a blanket he could use for a tablecloth, he eased out the door and hurried to the roof.

_Roof,_ he texted Jess, hoping she was still awake. Taking a deep breath, he hit send.

He decided to grab one of the candles sitting on the ledge. Just about to light it, he looked down at the table and sighed.

_Good enough,_ he thought.


End file.
